


Things Found In Translation

by Primarybufferpanel (ArwenLune)



Series: Ellipse [6]
Category: Wynonna Earp (TV)
Genre: Enemies to reluctant allies, Future Fic, Gen, Redemption
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-06
Updated: 2018-04-07
Packaged: 2019-03-27 22:41:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,310
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13890654
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArwenLune/pseuds/Primarybufferpanel
Summary: Bobo returned to consciousness reluctantly."So," a voice said brightly from close by, and he jerked. The hold on his wrist disappeared. "Feeling any more Bullshitty than this morning?"





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by the [Fallen](http://archiveofourown.org/series/805644) series by [Takada_Saiko](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Takada_Saiko/pseuds/Takada_Saiko) which includes a wonderful version of S3 that involves Bobo becoming an ally to Team Earp and I love it SO MUCH.

Bobo returned to consciousness reluctantly.

He'd been.. there'd been..

Bulshar, fucking hells, _Bulshar_ and his Revenants with the last of their humanity burned out of them. A snowy field and _please gods let me pull this off_ and Deputy Haught getting shot at—Waverly screaming. Something about the demon's hand? Fire? Deputy Marshall Dolls.. on fire? He frowned at the odd, confused memory.

Something was restraining his wrist with firm pressure, and he mindlessly tried to yank it free. He groaned as the motion brought a cascading awareness of his body.

His upper back hurt like it was being beaten with red-hot sledgehammers (and he'd know), and every breath spiked extra agony. He was stretched out half on his stomach, propped up on one side with something soft so that he could breathe without needing to strain his neck to the side. His throat felt raw. Something heavy was spread out over him, and with some focus he finally recognised the familiar scent of his fur coat.

"So," a voice said brightly from close by, and he jerked. The hold on his wrist disappeared. "Feeling any more Bullshitty than this morning?"

Bobo dragged open his eyes, and it took a moment for her to swim into focus. Wynonna. She was sitting in an office chair right next to him, boots propped up on the edge of the.. cot, he was on a cot, Peacemaker in her lap.

"'Cause you sure as hell weren't cooperating when we were digging the bullets out of your back," she added sharply.

He groaned at the sudden sense memory of being pinned down by a heavy weight on the back of his neck — her knee? and her sharp voice saying they were _helping you, damn it Bobo, let Dolls work,_ and the _pain_ , punctuated by the metallic clink of bullets hitting a tray.

It took him long moments to understand what she'd just asked.

"Nah," he sighed, "no more.." He was relieved to feel that it was true. Bulshar hadn't regained any kind of hold. He could still feel the demon's push at the edge of his awareness, that hadn't gone away since he'd broken the third seal, but it didn't have the sway it'd had after Bulshar had grabbed him in that mine, twisted his exhaustion and despair, drained the colour from his hair.

He'd spent the past weeks in fear that Bulshar would sense his betrayal, and it was almost a relief that it was out in the open.

"Good," Wynonna said, not getting up from her seat. She tucked Peacemaker into her boot and reached out to flip back the edge of his fur coat from where it had been spread out over him. Looking at the top of his back - fuck, right, _bullets_ , the memory surfaced, he could still feel their impact slam through him.

He had a vague, confused memory of shielding Deputy Haught with his body, unsure if she was even alive. Getting shot might not kill him, but it sure as fuck hurt.

The Heir made a little noise that seemed approving of whatever she saw, and flipped the coat back over him. He watched with groggy confusion as she sat back and put her feet back on the edge of the cot, picking up a some kind of colourful paper magazine. She had an empty coffee cup on the floor next to her, and more of those magazines.

It made some sort of sense that she'd needed to be there to make sure he hadn't woken up as Bulshar's marionette, but he couldn't phantom why she wasn't leaving now that was established.

 

He thought he might have faded out for a while. When he was next aware of her, Wynonna had a new cup of coffee. She seemed oddly content to sit there and read, and if it had been Waverly he might have understood that. His angel was a generous heart, somebody who'd sit by an injured man even if there was no need for it.

Though given how suspicous she was of him now, after the past few weeks, after he'd offered her to Bulshar — well, perhaps it did make sense that it was Wynonna here.

"w'hppen to.." he murmured, watching her from under heavy eyelids, "t'enemy of my enemy is an asshole...?"

She looked up sharply, apparently having been absorbed in her reading.

"Nothing. He _so_ still is," she smirked, slouching further down in the desk chair. "But do you know how long it's been since I had time to just drink coffee and read trashy magazines? Years, Bobo, _years_."

He hummed, amused.

"So I'm good here. Beats doing damage-control out there," she made a throwaway gesture in the direction of the door.

It was leagues from the words he'd once fever-dreamed of hearing Wyatt say, while his gunshot wound went septic, while he sank away into unconsciousness and finally into hell: _Rest, Robert, I am with you_ , but he understood them anyway.

 _She's three times the Earp you ever were_ , he thought—or perhaps murmured—as he drifted into a deep, dreamless sleep.

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **I wrote chapter 1 of this story first and then sort of backchained the Ellipse story arc (which, NOT recommended in terms of writing enjoyment, let me tell you). So basically we've arrived at this point in the story arc and I'm sweeping up this story into the series. The first chapter has had some minor changes, and I would recommend rereading it - chapter 2 and 3 are new.**

Bobo mumbled something about 'three' as his face went slack. Wynonna watched him for a while, her magazine open in her lap. He hadn't asked what she'd expected — if they'd managed to kill Bulshar. Or perhaps the fact that he'd woken up at all had answered any questions about if the curse had been ended.

They still didn't even know what would happen when it did. If Revenants would become human, if they'd live or die, if they'd go back to hell or not.

Things had started more or less as they'd hoped, this morning. Waverly, Dolls, Doc and Nicole had walked into the field that had an entrance to Bulshar's lair at the back of it. They'd loudly challenged the demon to come out, to return the Heir. Wynonna had stayed hidden in the footwell of the SUV, Jeremy ostensibly hanging back to guard the cars, but more to let her know when to come out and to make sure nobody found her in the meantime. She could follow things a little via the rearview mirror.

Bulshar had been as much a drama queen as hoped, very prone to grandstanding. Bobo'd been at his side with five other Revenants, looking and acting every inch the Bobo Del Rey she'd always known and hated, and she wondered if the others had had doubts.

Bobo's sign, when it came, had been as unmistakable as promised. He'd moved Doc's shooting hand up and pulled the trigger, making him shoot through the brim of his own hat.

She looked down at the unconscious Bobo, shaking her head in disbelief. She was still figuring out which parts of his personality were turning out to be an act. Over the past century he'd clearly realised his potential as a trolling asshole though, and that was here to stay.

Doc's bellow of rage when he threw the knife probably hadn't been acted.

 

Bobo'd moved forward, and from what Wynonna could see via the mirror the angles had been good, the deflected knife going through the demon's arm had looked enough like an accident that the resulting confusion had been to all of their benefit. Wynonna had jumped out of the car while Bulshar roared with surprised pain and rage, Peacemaker already drawn and aimed as she moved closer.

While she ran through the snow she'd seen that the demon's severed hand had landed in the snow near Nicole, and that she'd kneeled down to dig it up. One of the Revenants had opened fire on Nicole, but that's when Bobo had used his powers to rip the gun from his hands and bend it, leaving no possible doubt about which side he was on, even if the implications of Wynonna's appearance hadn't given it away.

Bobo had charged at Nicole, not even deflecting the bullets shot at him by another Revenant with a submachine gun, bullets impacting dully into his back. A moment later Waverly had shot the Revenant. Nicole and Bobo stayed on the ground, unmoving, and Waverly had screamed and tried to make her way over, but Wynonna hadn't been able to pay attention to that.

At that moment Bulshar had seen her and abuptly dismissed Bobo's betrayal, focused entirely on her and on Peacemaker. The gun had glowed a deep red as she took aim, and she'd really thought--

In their previous encounter, Bulshar had been able to deflect bullets much like Bobo could. For whatever reason--the rings?-- that didn't happen now. He raised the stump of his arm to shield his face as she shot and the bullet pierced it, and her second shot went into his torso, but the demon did not die.

It did seem to injure him, but he'd charging come at her, roaring and terrifying until Dolls had - she hadn't appreciated the awesomeness until later - _breathed fire on him_ , which had finally made him retreat.

She'd shot the downed Revenants with Peacemaker while Dolls made sure all the remaining enemies had left.

 

"Hey," Xavier said softly from the doorway, and she turned to him, smiling to see that he'd taken the time to change out of his bloody tactical gear and take a shower. Something about seeing him like this, dressed in the soft, coarse-knit sweater he kept at the station as backup, resolved a knot of tension in her stomach.

"Hey," she said warmly, pitching her voice low. "How's everybody?"

He strolled in with an assessing look at Bobo, coming to stand next to her, hand tracing her shoulder.

"Nicole's X-ray looked good. Doc's gone to see Gretta."

By the time Bulshar and the remaining Revenants had gone, Waverly had managed to haul Bobo off Nicole, who'd been gasping weakly. The two bullets had caught her in the vest. Sounded like she at least hadn't broken any ribs from the impact. Though she'd likely still be hurting for a while to come. Better than the alternative, she supposed.

Dolls had scooped the severed demon hand (grossss) into an evidence bag, and right now Doc was talking to Gretta about forging the demon's rings into a bullet. Waverly's research seemed to suggest that would be their best chance of finally killing him. Given their history with the Iron Witch's sister, Wynonna still wasn't sure if they wouldn't be much better off doing the forging themselves.

 

Jeremy had driven the SUV into the snowy field where the confrontation had taken place. They hadn't bothered to check out Bobo's back, since there wasn't exactly anything they could do there in the snow anyway. They'd just hauled him up and into the back. He'd roused once, when he'd heard Waverly and Nicole talk, and then not until they had him at the station and were prying the bullets from his back.

That was when they'd discovered that topical anathaesia apparently didn't work on Revenants, and that in his state, Bobo was very much not expecting good things to come from being touched. They'd had to sit on him, more or less, to hold him still enough that Dolls could get the bullets out and the wounds flushed out.

It had taken time and effort, and she still wasn't completely sure they'd gotten all the fragments of cloth and leather out. Jeremy had pointed out that he would survive - or rather, that he'd _live_ \- either way, but, well, that wasn't the point. She hated the thought of just letting him die because they knew he'd resurrect. Allies didn't let allies just die. Right?

The point had been that hopefully he'd recover faster and easier because of their efforts.

"How's he?" Dolls asked. "Said anything?"

"Out of it, but not like, demon-y out of it," Wynonna said. "Just groggy and confused and in pain. His pulse is okay, and the wounds have stopped bleeding through the dressing, that seems like a good start."

He'd been so still that she'd half worried that the lack of bleeding actually meant he was dying, but her hand on his wrist had roused him.

Dolls hummed in agreement.

"I don't get it. Why didn't he just like, deflect the bullets?"

 

"The angle was bad," Dolls said after a moment of thought. "Might have thought there was too much risk that the bullets would have hit Nicole or Waverly instead."

Wynonna sighed, because that made sense and she still didn't like it.

"Want a break? I can be here a while," Dolls offered. He'd brought his laptop.

She looked at him a moment, considering. She felt this strange, undefinable urge to be here, to stay with Bobo while he was down - perhaps to prove that she didn't see him as something disposable to be spent, or perhaps to in some way make up for where Wyatt had failed him. But she did need to check in with the others, especially Waverly, and Dolls had seemed to do okay with Bobo yesterday.

"All right." She got up. "What are we gonna do tonight though? He can't exactly stay here."

And obviously the homestead was right out even if Wynonna could have convinced Waverly.

"How about the apartment at Shorty's?" Dolls suggested. "It's at least familiar to him."

They shared a look, because that was Doc's space now, and the suggestion would not go over well.

"Maybe Doc will want to come with us to the homestead tonight anyway...?" Wynonna grimaced. They had all gotten into the habit of gathering there the night after a big fight, a kind of communal reassurance that they were alive. Inviting Doc over and in the next breath asking if he minded Bobo spending the night at his place though...

Doc still had a cot set up in the barn, and once or twice when he stayed over and they were relaxed and he and Xavier were joking around, she'd found herself thinking that maybe... the three of them... her new bed would fit-- but that wasn't a thing people _did_ , right? That was definitely not an option within the unspoken lines of what she had with Xavier, and that in itself was still new and fragile. She was trying to do this relationship thing _right_ , not fuck it up with stupid wishes, so she wasn't going anywhere near this vague idea.

"I'll bring it up to him, if you like," Dolls offered, and it took a moment to remember that he was talking about letting Bobo stay above Shorty's, not the other thing. She got to her feet to kiss him lightly on the lips, sinking into his embrace for a long moment.

Figuring out how to maintain her already-complicated relationship with Doc while also being supportive of Bobo's tentative steps as an ally into their group was giving her headaches. She was grateful that Dolls saw it and was willing to help her navigate things.

"Thank you."

He pressed a kiss to her forehead, and sat down in the chair she'd vacated. Wynonna stayed in the dooropening a moment to appreciate the sight of him in his reading glasses, and then left to go check in with the others.

 


	3. Chapter 3

Bobo woke to the realisation that Wynonna was gone, the scent of her—Peacemaker in combination with something feminine, perfume or perhaps her shampoo—gone and replaced with—

He wasn't sure, but the breathing was slow and deep, masculine, and there was the low whirr of a laptop. Which might or might not rule out John Henry, the man seemed to have been catching up on 21st century skills. But both the lack of smoke scent and the fact that he was waking up with less pain than before spoke against it being John Henry.

Deputy Marshall Dolls, then. Not the most likely to enjoy having him at a disadvantage, but not the least likely either.

(How had that become _Wynonna Earp_ , of all people? Bobo had _not_ seen that coming.)

"How you feeling?" Dolls asked. He shifted, and Bobo forced open his eyes, wary. The man was just moving to put his laptop on the ground. Right.

He made a noise that perhaps meant 'eh' or 'been better, been worse,' and Dolls huffed a breath as if he got that.

"Did you—" Bobo had to swallow to make his voice do anything more than croak. "Did you... _breathe fire_... or was that a hallucination?" he managed.

Dolls actually laughed, low and genuinely amused, and got to his feet. Bobo tried not to react to that, even though he was far from comfortable with the other man standing over him. But Dolls only went over to the sink in the corner to fill a sports bottle, and came back to offer it to him. Bobo was still in a prone position, but squeezing the water up, he could drink without too much difficulty.

"You did not hallucinate that," Dolls confirmed, offering no further explanation.

Hmm, Black Badge? From what Bobo knew, they did always take an interest in... altering people. The geek boy with his plastic weapon had also undergone something interesting.

"Can I have a look at your back?"

The jittery unease about the situation was fading off a little with the complete lack of posturing on the Deputy Marshall's side, and Bobo grunted his assent.

The man gloved up—Bobo wasn't entirely sure for whose benefit—and folded back the fur coat currently serving as blanket, then carefully peeled away a large dressing. The pain had dropped considerably, though healing was still never comfortable. Bobo cautiously shifted his shoulders, not unhappy with how it felt.

"I'll put a light dressing back on so it doesn't stick to your clothes, but that's looking pretty good," Dolls said, turning to a large medical case Bobo hadn't noticed before. "Then if you think you can sit up to eat, there's a takeout run happening."

Bobo scoffed, because he'd traversed the mine yesterday in a worse state, of course he could sit if he needed to. The idea of sitting down with these people and sharing takeout food was... something he wasn't quite ready to comment on.

"If you could contain your urge to antagonise Doc, that would be good for all our stress levels," the Deputy Marshall said evenly, taping down the new dressing. "Especially because he's agreed to letting you use the room above Shorty's for tonight."

Huh. That was... unexpected.

Dolls turned away, stripping off his gloves. "Tomorrow you gotta figure out where to go from there." He hesitated a moment. "I figure you have the means to get a motel room or something, but do you have access to them?"

Bobo hummed an affirmative. Bulshar didn't care for such earthly matters; his bank accounts should still be exactly where they were, and even if that didn't work he had caches hidden in the mine. Moving back into his bus at the trailer park left him too vulnerable, but if somebody gave him a ride there he could get his bike and some clothes - it'd be fine. What he didn't understand was—

"Why do you—" he flung out a his hand. "What does it _matter?_ "

"Hey, you've made it clear you're on the team," Dolls said, pulling out his phone as it buzzed, his eyes on the screen. "That comes with people giving a shit about if you're freezing your ass off down a drafty mine somewhere. It's a package deal that way."

Bobo had no reply to that, and no idea what his face was doing. He rather thought the Deputy Marshall was doing him a deliberate favour by not looking at him right now.

"You give sitting up a try, I'll get you a t-shirt to wear," Dolls tossed over his shoulder, walking out. "Food's inbound."

"Right."

 


	4. Chapter 4

Dinner would probably have been more awkward if everybody hadn't been so tired, Wynonna figured. It was late, well past time that they headed to the homestead, but she hadn't wanted to figure out dinner at home when everybody would just be wanting to crash, and this way she knew Jeremy and Bobo had both eaten.

Damn it, when had she become such a mother hen?

Looking around their little circle though, she felt a wash of fierce protectiveness toward them, an urge to make sure they were okay and that they knew she wanted them okay. These were _her_ people, all the fire in her selfish misfit heart screamed, and _nobody_ , least of all Bulshar, was allowed to take them from her. 

Nicole was in one of the desk chairs, moving gingerly even though from the look of her face the high-grade painkillers were doing there job, and she wasn't feeling much pain. The adoring light in her eyes when she was looking at Waverly — which was pretty much constantly, to the point where sometimes her food missed her mouth — was ridiculously cute.

Waverly had rolled up a chair next to her, foot casually curled around the base of Nicole's chair so the two of them wouldn't roll apart.

It was adorable, making all of them smile. Wynonna found it a welcome distraction from the tension.

She and Xavier were perched on a desk, thighs and shoulders brushing together in a way that hopefully looked more casual than it felt. On the desk opposite them were Doc and Jeremy, the latter sitting with his legs dangling as he ate, Doc only leaning on the desk as if he needed to be ready to move at any moment. Maybe that was how he still felt.

Closing the circle, desk chair back a little as if he wasn't quite sure if he wanted to be part of this, was Bobo. Xavier had found him a t-shirt to wear from the Lost & Found. She was having trouble not giggling about it, because it was a pale blue and had 'Friendship Is Magic' on it, and there was NO way that was a coincidence. It wasn't cartoony, but the reference was obvious and Bobo was enough part of modern society to not miss it.

He either didn't care or didn't find it worth making a fuss over; he'd accepted a carton of food with a nod of thanks and hadn't said a word outside of the conversation about the rings.

Melting them into a bullet was an option, but Waverly wanted to research them first to make sure they understand what they actually did. There'd been a tense moment as Doc had suggested that Bobo should have known that taking these rings wouldn't make Bulshar mortal. Bobo hadn't looked up from his food, only replied in an almost bored tone if that sounded like the kind of information the demon would have shared.

Wynonna figured Xavier had warned Bobo not to provoke Doc, but he still seemed oddly quiet. Subdued, almost. Maybe in shock? He was still recovering from a level of bloodloss that would have killed a normal human, so that in itself was reason enough.

And even without that, he  _had_ just given up a cover he'd spent a century building up, double-crossed the demon that had the power to send him to hell for all of eternity, and Bulshar hadn't died as they'd hoped. He was still alive, or at least walking around, to get retribution. 

Wynonna was pretty sure that Bobo had replaced her as Bulshar's main target — she might be the Earp heir, somebody to torture in Wyatt's stead, but with Bobo it was  _personal_ . There was absolutely no going back from this. And now he was here among Team Earp where he was, at best, uncertain of his welcome. 

 

Doc had already dropped by Shorty's to make sure there wasn't anything he was uncomfortable with Bobo seeing (she could only hope he'd not stripped the room bare) so after dinner she and Dolls would drive Bobo and Jeremy to where they needed to go, and Doc would take Waverly and Nicole straight to the homestead.

Dolls went to Jeremy's place first. On the way from there to Shorty's, Wynonna glanced back at Bobo. He looked deep in thought, or just zoned out. She considered all the things he'd need to figure out in the next few days. Where to sleep, how to get there, what to wear.

"You planning to go back to the trailer park?" she asked, and he blinked to attention.

"To get some things, pick up my bike," he nodded after a moment.

"Not worried you'll get jumped while you're there?" she asked, curious. He'd betrayed the Revenants by going over to her side — surely there'd be somebody keen to get a shot in.

He tilted his head thoughtfully.

"Not all the Revenants were called by Bulshar - he mostly got the real—" he smirked, "—assholes."

She grinned a little because that was already starting to become an joke, and Dolls, eyes on the dark road, did too.

"Those of 'em are left, some of 'em might have a bone to pick. Guess I'll find out."

"We could give you a ride. Stick around in case they do."

He looked taken aback, opening his mouth as if he wanted to refuse automatically, and closed it again.

"Yeah, sounds good," he finally said, a beat too slow.

She  _knew_ he had seen an angle she wasn't seeing, she just wasn't sure how much it should concern her. There was no time to find out though, because they were at Shorty's. 

"Don't drink the bar dry," she shot off when he got out, and he scoffed. Either because he would do as he pleased, or because he was in no state to do anything but crash. Looking at the way he leaned on the car door a little, the sparse light of streetlighting not hiding how pale he still was, she suspected it was closer to the second. "We'll drop by late morning for that ride."

He grunted in acknowledgement, and they waited until he'd disappeared inside before driving off.

 

"That seem weird to you?" Wynonna asked finally.

Xavier hummed thoughtfully.

"Could be nothing. He's not used to sharing."

"True." She sighed, thinking about the earlier times they'd been at the trailer park. "I'd still rather know what I'm walking into though."

"Might have to be a 'Give trust to get trust' kind of thing."

"You seem unusually sure we can trust him."

It wasn't that Wynonna  _didn't_ trust him, or at least trusted his commitment to their common goal. But suspecting everything Bobo did was such a long-ingrained habit, and so far  _she_ had been the one going on on a limb, trying to convince the others. It felt strange to not have Xavier be more cautious than she was. 

"Two things I noticed today," he said, reaching out absently to take her hand into his, just to hold it. She smiled. "One is that your good opinion matters to him. Maybe he's.. I don't know, casting you in Wyatt's role, but he wants your approval."

Wynonna hummed in acknowledgement. Maybe she was casting herself in Wyatt's role too. Maybe this whole thing would just keep circling, same parts played by different actors.

"That gives you a lot of sway, but be careful. If he feels like—" he let go of her hand so he could gesture in the air, "—like it's impossible to earn, or worse, that he's lost it, there's no telling how far he'll go over the edge."

Wynonna nodded in acknowledgement.  _Give trust to earn trust._ Constant suspicion would discourage him from this path of working with them. She supposed if his actions today hadn't proven him, what possible could? 

"Two is that he made a split second decision today that he was willing to die for one of us."

She'd thought about that too, and what it meant that it had been Nicole, who he barely knew. Had it been for Waverly? Had he thought about it at all?

"I mean, he knew he'd regenerate, right? But still."

"No, for real die, permanently," Xavier shook his head. "We all thought that Bulshar would become human without his rings. Or at least, killable by Peacemaker."

"Hoped it, anyway," she nodded. And yeah, if the curse would have ended at that moment, Bobo wouldn't have survived the car ride back into town. He'd bled hard enough he'd soaked through three sizeable towels. She hummed thoughtfully.

"So you're saying, just go along with it tomorrow?"

"Keep our eyes open, but yeah. He knows the Revenants much better than we do, he's seeing sides of this we aren't."

 

By noon the next day she was in the trailer park, Peacemaker holstered and her hand purposely away from it, projecting 'I don't have a care in the world' as convincingly as she could. She'd expected a heavily armed reception, possibly having to navigate protecting Bobo without enraging him for needing it.

Instead she was watching him give a speech that had her, to her considerable surprise, on the edge of her seat (if she'd been sitting). He had a crowd of 17 what she would term the 'lesser Revenants' — people who were small fry to begin with, or had even be more or less bystanders caught in Wyatt's crossfire, like Rosita.

(She needed to ask him if he knew where Rosita was, come to think of it. Though maybe she should decide first how she felt about Rosita)

Bobo was persuading them that the demon Clootie would never break the curse, would only ever keep using the Revenants as weapons in his retribution on the Earp line. And that if they worked against the demon and helped him break the curse, they had nothing to fear from the Heir. He glanced at her as he said it, and they hadn't discussed this, but she nodded in agreement. Bulshar took priority anyway; she wasn't going to go after anybody who wasn't acting against her side.

After, well, they had no idea what would happen to the Revenants if—no, when,  _when_ — the spell broke, but she'd be happy to put Peacemaker to rest. They wouldn't be her concern any longer. If any of them continued as criminals, it would be law enforcement's business. 

She could feel the mood in the crowd shift, could see people take Bobo's offer seriously, and holy shit, she had not seen this coming. It was a good reminder that he'd had a century of practice in wielding his influence, in convincing people to go his way, and that she couldn't expect him to be a follower.

She and Dolls left not long after, though not before she'd given Bobo a bit of good natured shit about how he was possibly going to transport his entire wardrobe of fur coats on his bike. He might have been received better than expected by the remaining Revenants in the trailer park, it was still far too exposed to Bulshar to stay, so he was taking some of his things into town and planning to get a motel room.

He'd made a 'wait here' gesture and gone into his bus to bring out an ancient looking suitcase, and plonked it into Wynonna's arms with a grin, saying he'd pick it up at Shorty's.

 

She craned her neck to look back at the trailer park as Xavier drove the SUV out its gate. Bobo gave her a sarcastic little wave.

Asshole.

"How are you so  _calm_ about this?" she asked Xavier. The morning had felt like a rollercoaster to her, but he had seemed to take everything in stride. 

He took her hand and drew it up so he could kiss the back of her hand, simple and affectionate, soothing her restlessness.

"I learned a lot from the first time I worked with a loose cannon with more knowledge of the local situation than I had," he said innocently.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> I am like a year late to Wynonna Earp and nobody seems to be talking about it anymore, please come hang with me on [tumblr](http://primarybufferpanel.tumblr.com)?


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